


do over, try again

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: "Because I can make everything happen the good way this time."Fero, post-Twenty Two Brown Birds





	do over, try again

**Author's Note:**

> I went to sleep upset, and woke up upset, and went through the day upset, and then I wrote this. Spoilers for the end of Winter in Hieron 25 Twenty Two Brown Birds, obvs.
> 
> Thanks to sophie, for her speedy betaing, and to maddie for looking over the fic (and emotionally supporting me through this difficult time).

 

As soon as the interrogator steps through the door, Lem is pushing him aside, rushing to kneel at Fero’s side. Fero can feel his hands trembling as they pull at Fero’s clothing, shaking him a little. Fero blinks up at him slowly, the very picture of someone just coming back into consciousness.

 

“Lem?” he croaks. His throat hurts.

 

“Oh, Fero,” says Lem. “I’m so glad I found you!” 

 

Fero coughs weakly, his hand shakily clasping Lem's. “You took your time.”

 

Lems eyes well up. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I- I--”

 

“It's okay,“ says Fero. “I'm okay now that you're here.”

 

Lem presses his forehead to Fero's. Fero can feel the warm weight of it, the puff of air from Lem’s lips. He’s close enough to see Lem’s individual eyelashes as they flutter.

 

Lem swallows, and blinks, and he says… he says… 

 

 

Fero makes an annoyed sound, blinking up at the ceiling. He’s in a small, dark room, still in the Archives. Throndir insisted on it even though he can heal himself, so he's fine. Totally fine. Like being tortured never even happened. 

 

He wriggles on the bed, trying to find a better position. This bed isn’t  _ nearly _ as comfortable as his own. Lem used to say it was because they were designed for orcs, and orcs needed stiffer mattresses. 

 

Lem used to say a lot of things.

 

_ Right,  _ thinks Fero,  _ Let's try this again.  _

 

 

The interrogator opens up the door and Fero immediately pushes himself up off the floor, heroically ignoring the low pain in his shoulder. He pushes the orc as he rushes past and they give a surprised yelp as they stumble backwards. Fero shoots a grin over his shoulder, heading directly for Lem.

 

Lem is staring at him, a look of shock on his face, the mask from the tower held out loosely in his hands. Uklan pushes the mask more towards Lem, his movements twitchy.

 

“Quickly,” says Uklan, “put it on.”

 

Fero wriggles in-between them, pulling the mask away from Lem’s hands.

 

“This plan sucks!” says Fero, “Don’t do it!”

 

Lem looks from Fero, to Uklan. “I’m sorry about him--”

 

“You can be as sorry as you want,” says Fero, “just don’t do it.”

 

“He must,” says Uklan. “For the pattern.”

 

“Well, then the pattern sucks,” says Fero. Lem makes a face at him, but Fero barrels ahead. “Lem needs to stay  _ here.” _

 

Uklan blinks down at Fero, frustratingly calm. “Why?”

 

Well, shit. Fero doesn't know. Because he'd rather Lem not leave. Not until he can get the last word in, anyway. There was so much more left he wanted to say and... Anyway.

 

 

Fero wrinkles his nose, letting the vision dissipate. There's a way to do this right, he just has to find it.

 

 

The interrogator opens the door. Fero tilts his head to the side, just a fraction, so that he can look through the door and asses the situation.

 

There’s the interrogator, surprised and apparently not in a hurry to close the door behind them. There’s Ephrim, who looks exhausted and annoyed, one hand on his sword. There’s Uklan, with the mask.

 

And there’s Lem, looking down at the mask in his hands. He’s not wearing any boots, or armor. His violin has made a damp patch on his shirt where the case is resting against his back. His hair’s started to come out of it’s intricate braid, frizzy like it gets after a rainstorm.

 

Lem lifts the mask to his face.

 

Fero pushes himself up off the floor, hissing and slipping a little as the movement puts pressure on his injured shoulder. He stumbles towards Lem, feet slipping as his mind makes the room tilt and shift.

 

He’s going to have  _ words _ with that interrogator after this, but there’s no time for that now. Lem almost has the mask across his face. Fero winces as he moves a little faster, jumping to close the gap between them and knock the mask out of Lem’s hands.

 

It shatters.

 

Fero leans on the desk, breathing hard and feeling a small thrill of victory, before he looks up at Lem’s face. Lem doesn't look like someone saved from a terrible fate. He looks like someone very annoyed. 

 

“Fero,” says Lem, “what did you do that for?”

 

“To save you!” says Fero. “Not that you would  _ ever  _ return the favour!”

 

“When did I ever ask for you to save me?” snaps Lem. “I don’t need saving.” He turns to Uklan. “I’m so sorry, he’s messed it all up--”

 

“What, no I haven’t--” says Fero.

 

“Yes, you have, just like you messed things up for me in Rosemerrow,” says Lem, “just like you messed things up for me in Nacre.”

 

“I didn’t mess up in either of those places,” says Fero.

 

Lem makes a frustrated noise. “You did so! Why don’t you ever listen to me!”

 

“You’re one to talk about not listening!” says Fero. Gods, he wishes the room would stop spinning so he could get in Lem’s face about this properly. “You left me! You’re  _ always  _ leaving me!”

 

“Oh, you’re fine,” says Lem, bending to pick up the pieces of the mask. “I knew you could handle it.”

 

Fero grips the edge of the table tight. “I got  _ tortured _ !”

 

Lem flicks a gaze up to him. “Yeah, but you’re fine now, right? So why are you so upset?”

 

“Why am I so  _ upset _ ?” says Fero. Anger wells up inside him, getting stuck in his throat  _ like sand _ , making it hard to get the words out. “About being  _ tortured _ ? You- I--”

 

“See?” says Lem, “You don’t even know.” He sighs, rising to his feet and holding out the broken mask to Uklan, ignoring Fero again. “I’m so sorry about all this, is there another way we can continue the pattern?”

 

 

Fero’s eyes snap open. This isn't it either. He doesn’t want the last thing he said to Lem to be an argument, that’s what he’s trying to  _ fix _ .

 

He squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a deep breath in and out. There’s a way to do this. He’s going to do this. Try again.

 

 

The interrogator opens the door. Fero can see them-- Ephrim, Uklan, Lem, standing on the other side of it. He has to move fast. Who knows how long the interrogator's surprise will last, he needs to use this moment to his advantage.

 

He pushes himself up with a groan, wincing at the pain in his shoulder and in his throat as he stumbles towards Lem. The interrogator makes a grab for him but he ducks under their grip. The room still rolls under his feet, but having a point of focus helps, drawing him one step at time towards Lem.

 

He falls against Lem’s side. Lem makes a surprised sound, his hand coming to rest on Fero’s uninjured shoulder. The weight of it is comforting, familiar.

 

“We’ve been trying to get you out,” says Lem, “me and Ephrim. Sorry, we-- I-- it took a little longer than we thought it would.”

 

Fero twists his hands in Lem’s shirt, pressing his face against Lem's stomach. “Please don't finish the pattern.”

 

“It'll be fine,” says Lem. 

 

He sounds embarrassed, hands fluttering across Fero’s shoulders as though he wants to pull Fero off him but can’t bring himself to make contact.

 

“No, it won't, it--” Fero takes a deep breath. This time he's not going to argue. “Lem,  _ please _ , listen to me.”

 

Lem hesitates, looking from Uklan to Fero and back again. 

 

“I have to help finish it,” says Lem gently. “He helped get you out. I promised I would.”

 

“I got  _ myself _ out” says Fero, “and a promise is just a bunch of words, he's not going to hold it against you.”

 

Lem still hesitates, his expression wavering. He's not quite looking at Fero, more like he's looking at the wall behind him, just like he did when he… when he… 

 

 

Fero scrubs a hand over his face, wiping away the dampness on his cheeks.

 

There's a knock at the door. Throndir opens it, his every movement hesitant, poking his head around the door rather than opening it fully. The room outside is bright with candlelight.

 

“Fero, you ready to go? “ says Throndir. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I didn’t know if you were--”

 

“It’s fine,” says Fero quickly. “I was just resting, like you told me to. Nothing important. Nothing else I can really do in this room.”

 

When he hops down off the bed the floor is solid under his feet. His throat and shoulder feel fine. After all, he can heal himself, fix himself, save himself. It’s like nothing ever happened.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> lem and fero being separated at the end of this ep means that they will be the furthest away from each other physically that they had been in at least three canonical years (during which time they saw each other basically 24/7), and I'm Very Sad abt it.
> 
> come say hi on twitter/tumblr: mariusperkins


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